


Lost in the Echo

by KingofPromise



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-03
Updated: 2013-01-08
Packaged: 2017-11-17 16:42:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/553693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingofPromise/pseuds/KingofPromise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As usual Stiles has a plan, but isn't sure how to put it into motion. Dancing leads to other things... Anything can happen during Operation: Woo the Sourwolf.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It couldn't be that hard. Sure Stiles lacked in a lot of… basic motor skills. Things like coordination weren't high on his list of skills. But this,  _this_  couldn't be that hard. His hips just weren't moving like they were supposed to. Maybe he needed to do more stretches. He bent at the waist, his bare feet planted firmly on the ground. Stiles was happy his father wasn't here to witness this. Futility attempting to reach the skill level that someone like Beyoncé had long since mastered was not a conversation he was willing to have with his father.

Stiles was obviously not dancing to Freakum Dress because he  _wanted_  to. It was more or less a dare. A passing dare that he was sure Danny didn't actually care about. Stiles just had some distorted need for the boy to find him attractive. What better way to impress him than to master Beyoncé choreography. Gay guys… and Stiles fucking loved Beyoncé.

Okay, spin it all around and take it to the ground. He could do this. After a disjointed spin and dip, Stiles was on his back looking up at the ceiling. He dusted himself off and stood only to hit the floor again at the sight of a new presence looming in the corner. Derek. "You know common courtesy says you should knock. Maybe then I won't have a heart attack, or slip a disk in my back." He was pulling himself up again. "Dick." 

Derek leaned against the edge of his dresser, amusement lighting his green eyes. That was essentially the only non-hostile look Stiles could expect. He’d always known that Derek’s spectrum of emotion having forgone humor and joy for a few extra rungs of brood and hostility. “Beyoncé.” A solitary word for Derek, his brows rising incredulously. It was so strange, but so  _Stiles_. He wasn’t even sure why he was remotely surprised. “Only you can make something so normal look like a contact sport.”

_Dick_.

Stiles didn’t respond right away, still trying to think of a way to actually justify this situation without sounding like a total tool… But if he were being honest with himself he’d realize that he passed the tool marker about six miles back. “Don’t let me stop the show. Go on." 

Stiles wasn't one to embarrass easy. Not at all. Crippling awkwardness was far more likely. His ADHD prevented embarrassment from slipping in. But he'd be a liar if he didn't know how embarrassing this was. Dropping it low in his boxers in front of Derek IBroodLikeItsMyJob Hale. Stiles looked from side to side as he stretched out his back, eyes finally settling on the larger man in the corner. "I don't expect you to understand the subtle complexities that go into the principles of Freakum Dresses.” What?

That didn't make any sense and he knew Derek would call him on it. Deflection would work better. Turn it back on Derek, who was clearly having himself a little peep show. "Why? You must enjoy watching how I expertly move my hips." He laughed awkwardly turning another little spin that was more Rosie O'Donnell than Beyoncé. Okay, dancing wasn't his thing. "I would ask you to dance, but you seem more Shakira, She Wolf, than Beyoncé." 

Derek made a noise. Somewhere between disbelief and actual amusement. It was kind of a nice sound – a bit of a change from his usual snarling and growling. “That’s what you call ‘expertly’? Beyoncé definitely does it better.” This tone he used to mock him was only slightly different from his usual tone. It was an interesting dynamic. Still, Stiles could only laugh at the thought of Derek actually watching Beyoncé videos. 

“What does the Big Bad Wolf know about Beyoncé anyways?” Stiles asked, hand still massaging an aching spot on his back. “Clearly a hell of a lot more than you.” Stiles noted the pointed look he’d received at the big bad comment. He couldn’t help himself. Derek was… Derek. His only defense was his expert use of sarcasm. Well, that coupled with his uncanny ability to overstate the obvious. 

“What are you doing here anyways? Breaking and entering applies to Alphas too.” Curiosity was really getting the better of him now, because he Derek rarely paid him visits for no reason at all. Especially now that he had his little “puppies” to train. 

Derek rolled his eyes. “I was making sure that no other supernatural creature with far  _less_  patience than me had ripped your throat out because of that  _mouth_.” It amazed Stiles how still he stood against his dresser, as if cemented there. Eyes and mouth the only thing still capable of visible movement. “Checking up on me, then? An Alpha bodyguard. Not doing too bad for myself.” His grin couldn’t be contained, though Derek looked as pensive and hostile as ever. 

“Don’t read too much into it.” How could he not? There was no immediate threat to his well-being while he was at home. Doing absolutely nothing. There was probably more to it than that, but Stiles was still trying to decide if he was actually willing to press for the information. 

“Kinda hard not to. As you can see no danger here.” He was grinning stupidly, though he knew he was pushing his luck. There was only so much Derek would take before Stiles ended up on the other side of that wall – having gotten there by means  _other_ than the door. “You might not have noticed this, but you have an uncanny ability to attract danger.” 

Funny how easily people forgot how many times he’d saved the day. In hindsight probably more times than the pack had saved him. “If I remember correctly, I have this uncanny ability to save  _your_ ass from imminent danger.”

“I’ve also got the ability to rip your throat out with my teeth.” Stiles gulped, that had never been a very appealing mental picture. Instinctually his hand found his neck, fingertips running over the soft skin there. “If you did that your life would be dull without my charm and comedic timing.” 

Was Derek actually smirking? An emotion that could have possibly stemmed from happiness? It was obviously at Stiles’ expense… But he’d take what he could get. “Believe it or not, I think I’m due for a bit of normal, and a hell of a lot of silence.” 

Stiles scoffed. “You say that now, but when you’re doing battle prep for some big Argent family blow out – Isaac inevitably says something stupid, then bam! Who’s not there to make a well thought out and perfectly timed comment? This guy, right here.”  

Derek had resumed his usual look, but said nothing. “And can you move or something? This gargoyle thing you’re doing is freaking me out, and I won’t know what to do if moss starts growing on you.” Did moss actually grow on gargoyles? Probably. Whatever. Derek wouldn’t know either. In the time it took for his mind to process all of that, Derek had moved to the front of the dresser – his back pressed against the front and his legs crossed at the ankle in front of him.

“Better?” He asked dryly.

 “Much. And I now dare to reiterate, what the hell are you still doing here?” He asked, folding his arms over his chest. Then in a flash Derek looked almost threatening, which made him drop his arms to his side. A note to self: Don’t assume defensive postures in the presence of an Alpha. They tended to get testy.

“Listen, I promised to keep an eye on you today. You’re gonna have to find a way to survive.” Stiles could have choked Scott. He didn’t need a babysitter. If anything this was a time where he’d be the less likely to get himself killed. The further away Scott was the less likely he was to get dragged into supernatural shenanigans. But here he was, with Derek… In his underwear. While Scott was living it up in Disneyworld or whatever the hell he’d gone for the week.

 “If I’m stuck with you, can you at least move out of the way and let me grab a shirt?” Stiles was putting on. He could think of a handful of things worse than spending a day with Derek Hale.  

 Derek surprisingly moved aside without incident, settling himself on the edge of Stiles’ bed while Stiles pulled out the first shirt he found. “What’s on tap for today? And please tell me the embarrassing dance portion of the day is over. You were pretty well on your way to a busted hip.”

 Stiles glared down at his dresser, knowing better than to direct the look at Derek himself. "Believe it or not I was going to do something normal for a change, but I guess living how we live doing something normal is actually abnormal. So, I'm really not doing anything out of the ordinary. Does that make sense? I haven't taken my medicine today."

 Derek’s attention had been slightly directed towards the rubber band ball that he’d just picked up from the nightstand. “I feel like this is going to be the longest day in history.”

 “There are plenty of doors and windows that you can use to leave. No illuminated walkways, but I’m sure you’ve got good enough sense to figure it out.” Stiles braced himself for another black glare, but none came. He was sure Derek must’ve missed the comment, as well as the little show he made with his arms.

 But that would’ve been too easy. “No.” A simple enough answer, though no question was really asked. “Now, what  _normal_  thing do you have to do today?” He asked, tossing the ball up in the air and catching it. In that moment he looked more like a kitten with a ball of yarn than a werewolf who would surely rip out his throat if he was stupid enough to say that out loud.

“I’m literally going to murder Scott.” Stiles said, noting the small noise Derek made. An approval, maybe? “We’re mowing the lawn.”

 “We’re?” Derek asked, throwing the ball up into the air again. “Yeah, we’re. I just figured since you were hanging around all day, you’d get off your lazy ass and help.” 

Derek laughed. Once again a humorless sound. “No.” Again. Seriously. “You’re going to mow the lawn, and I’m going to make sure the blades don’t kill you.”

He had to be kidding. Seriously, this was some kind of joke. Did Derek really believe that Stiles was  _that_ inept at life? He’d survived worst things than mowing the damn lawn. "What the hell do you think I'm gonna do? This isn't some Final Destination movie where I'm gonna hit a gnome and the blade is gonna fly off, narrowly missing me, hitting some weak point in the house and just as I exhale the whole house falls on me. That doesn’t happen in real life."

Was Derek smiling? No. Definitely not smiling, but there was humor within the way he moved. It was funny how good Stiles had gotten at reading Derek’s ridiculous emotions. Not really emotions, but as close as they were going to get to emotion. “If it could happen to anyone, it’d be you.” Stiles frowned. He really  _hated_ Derek sometimes.

“If this is how the day is gonna go, I can think of about fifty other things to do. None of which involve you making remarks about me dying.” Stiles said mustering as much hostility as he could without totally putting himself in harms way. “I could list about five hundred, but the point remains. I’m not leaving. You’re not getting hurt. Case closed. End of story.”

“Someone takes their job way too seriously…” Stiles muttered under his breath. “What was that?” Derek asked, eyes meeting Stiles’. “Nothing, God. Relax.”

“Good, then let’s go. If I’m gonna have to save your ass today, I’d rather do it before it gets too hot out.” Stiles scoffed again. Derek could be really whiny when he wanted to be. Once again that wasn’t something he’d dare say out loud. But discretion for him wasn’t always the better part of valor.  

 “I say again, it’s funny how easily you forget how many times I’ve saved your flea ridden ass. I think my list outweighs yours.” Bold move, Stiles. “Oh? I thought I was the one with the superhuman reflexes, speed, and let’s not forget the claws.” Okay, Stiles would give him that. He had powers and physical augmentations, but that didn’t change the fact that Stiles had played savior on many occasions.

"Let's see, saved your ass when your arm needed to be amputated. Saved your ass when you were almost Kanima bait. Broke that little magic hex ash circle so you could save Scott. Kept you from drowning. Do I need to continue?" Stiles smirked. Score one for him; none of those things were refutable.

Alas this was Derek Hale he was dealing with. “Funny I remember you almost fainting at the  _thought_ of amputating my arm. I’ve helped you and your little posse out more than I care to admit. Let’s not forget all the times you tried to have me arrested, not to mention pointing the Argents right in my direction. Need  _I_ continue?”

Damn it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Derek.” Playing the fool was definitely a role that he knew well. “Can’t brand me the bad guy when you look at the big picture, can you?”

No. But Stiles had never really thought Derek was all bad… Okay, maybe he did for a while… But not now. Things had changed. "I never said you were the bad guy. Brooding, yes. Abrasive, absolutely. Bad? Jury's still out on that one."

Derek looked. The look wasn’t heated nor was it angry. This was an emotion that Stiles was having trouble reading. It almost made him nervous. “Don’t you have a lawn to mow?”

“You’re the one that keeps talking.” Stiles reminded, though he knew he was just as much to blame. “I’ve suggested we go at least four times and you’re still standing here.” Derek said, standing again. Returning the ball to its previous place.

Stiles paused. Hesitated was more like it. “You’re in front of my dresser and I need pants. Those are more or less essential for this kinda thing.”

“Funny, you seemed to be pretty damn comfortable roaming around having conversations without them before.” Derek said, shrugging noncommittally before returning to his place on the bed.

 A little shrug came from Stiles. “I figured you were enjoying the view.” Derek rolled his eyes. “Desensitized.” That made sense. Werewolves tended to lose clothes when they hulked out. There was a lot of skin to be shown around that lair.

“I’ve got a great ass, and you know it.” Stiles made a show of the little hip gyration, hoping to at least get a laugh. Nothing. He should’ve known better. “If you say so.” As per usual Derek was rolling his eyes again. “Alphas have hormones too, Derek.”

Derek made a face. A warning one that usually would’ve stopped Stiles in his tracks, but for some reason he knew he wouldn’t relent today. Especially not after all the comments Derek had made about him today. Besides… He was interested in knowing. “We’re not talking about my biological functions.” Not a question. A statement – one that had fallen on deaf ears.

“I thought you were desensitized.” Stiles was basically prodding with his words, knowing better than to actually touch. “Skin, Stiles. To skin. Not to talking about my hormones with you.”

It was taking every ounce of his self control not to laugh. He was sure he’d get punched then. “Maybe you’d be nicer if you released some. Or probably not nicer, but you’d definitely wouldn’t be so tightly coiled.” Stiles knew he was on thin ice, but was showing no signs of stopping.

“Are you actually telling me that I need to get laid, Stiles?” Derek asked incredulously. “Essentially… Actually no. Not essentially. That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

Well this conversation had taken a turn that neither of them had actually anticipated. But Stiles was amused. He rarely threw Derek off his game like this. When he got close he usually ended up on the wrong end of a wall. Derek’s face was beginning to register that… “Thanks for the tip. Now put on your pants and do your chores.”

“Why’re you getting all pissy, or rather more so than usual.” It was getting so hard to keep from laughing, and Derek was getting more and more frustrated as time went on. “It’s just weird. You’re refusing to put on pants.”

“A man doesn’t have to wear pants in his own house if he doesn’t want to!” Great comeback, Stiles. “It’s really weird because you’re the one who brought it up.” What was Derek talking about? Stiles didn’t think he was easily confused, but that one threw him.

“The pants or the hormones?” Stiles asked, trying to prepare retorts to either path. “Both.” Derek said flatly, clearly over all of this. "I think your hormones could be the source of a lot o this hostility you have. You're a wolf so I can only imagine your testosterone levels being through the roof." At least if Stiles sounded like he was being scientific he could get away with satisfying his own curiosity.

 Derek groaned. Had Stiles finally bested him?! “Stiles. I’m fine. My hormones are in check. As Alpha I don’t really have  _time_ for little hook ups, this is kind of a round the clock job.” Stiles nodded, though he still wasn’t going to leave well enough alone. “I’m sure if you asked Erica or Boyd, they’d… assist. Hell, Isaac seems to be more than eager to please.”

Another face from Derek. Had Stiles been thinking he would’ve realized… But he was too busy prodding for information that his common sense sensors had pretty much knocked off. “We’re… in a pack Stiles. I turned them.” Derek was speaking slowly and deliberately as if speaking to a child. “Yeah I know, I’m just—Oh! Wow. Didn’t think about that one.” Family. Packs were family. Sex with family was incest. Apparently that was wrong amongst wolves too.

“Still, there has to be  _someone_. It’s not like you’re hard on the eyes.” Stiles thought back to Officer Abrams whom he charmed with extreme ease back at the station. “Just mow the lawn, Stiles.”

"No, we're talking now." Plops down on the bed next to him. "What about… Shit, we don't know many of the same people outside the pack." There was a low rumbling sound coming from Derek now. “Drop it, Stiles. I mean it.” Call him crazy, but Stiles rolled his eyes.  

“You do that so often, it has next to no appeal anymore.” He said, turning to look at Derek who was glaring daggers at him. “You’re not being cute.” Derek said in another low rumble, one that Stiles once again waved off. “Who’s trying to be?”  If they were going to be stuck together all day, there was definitely going to be some talking involved. Derek’s eyes scanned the room, trying to find some escape route from this  _awkwardness_. A notebook at the foot of the bed… What? Stiles seemed to drift back into his own head for a moment, not at all noticing Derek’s movement.

“Operation Woo the Sourwolf…?” Derek said in a very confused tone. Another sound that Stiles wasn’t privy to. Derek was always so sure of himself, but now reading Stiles’ private most thoughts, he seemed a bit awkward. Spazzing like only Stiles could he yanked the page away from him. “Shut up. That’s nothing. We should really get outside now. I can practically  _hear_ the grass growing.”

 That look. Derek was smirking. How much had he seen? Far too much. “No, we’re talking, remember? Wanna explain that to me? I read just about half before you snatched it.” This was now a game for Derek, but Stiles was not going down without a fight.

"It's… from a friend. Lydia wrote it and gave it to Allison she left it in my jeep and I meant to return it. But you know. Grass is growing by the second. Gonna look like Jumanji soon."

“Yeah, Stiles Hale sounds a lot like Lydia.” Derek was actually showing teeth now. A mocking smile, but a smile all the same. Not baring teeth, threatening to rip out vital organs. But Stiles felt like he was going to melt into a white puddle. “Lydia likes to make jokes.” He forced a laugh. “Funny, right?”

Not funny at all actually. Mortifying was a more appropriate word.

“Does Lydia even know about the time you, what was it? ‘Splayed seductively’ on the hood of my car?” Stiles squeezed his eyes shut. “I paid for that, and keep in mind that Lydia is very perceptive. She’d gonna win a Fields medal one day. You know what that is? I didn’t till she told me. There’s no Nobel Prize for Math. The things you learn…”

Now it was Derek who was holding in his laughter. Which wasn’t as easy as he would have liked. “And all the red you’ve been wearing?” Stiles blinked. Tossing out the first lie that came to mind. “A dozen red socks got in with my whites… Besides Allison and Lydia say red is my color.”

“Yeah, okay. Just so you know, I wasn’t even arguing with you. I was just pointing out the coincidence.” Derek shrugged though that smirk was still rooted firmly to his face. “I haven’t once bared my neck temptingly, whatever that means.” Nice deflection. Not.

“All the bending over you’ve been doing?” This was beyond amusing. Stiles had been caught and yet he refused to own up to it. Could you blame him? Derek was more likely to murder him than to reciprocate his feelings. “I’m clumsy, everyone knows that.”

“Seems more like you drop things and wait for my attention before picking them up.” Stiles squeezed his eyes closed again and stuffed the page into his pants pocket, though he wasn’t even wearing them yet. “Please stop talking.” He said turning away from him.

“’Stiles’ Derek growled sexily.”

Shit.

“All a joke.”

“You sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

Derek was sliding off the bed, and stood a few inches from Stiles. “Do I need to push you against the wall so you can ‘gauge my interest’?”

Stiles turned and looked at him again, awkwardness settling in the pit of his stomach. "I, er, We do tend to end up that way a lot. Your anger… My… Charm." So much for being coherent. Lucky for him he admired a man who was… take charge. Before he could register anything else his back was pressed to the wall, Derek’s face inches away from his own.

"You're making me bypass steps on my list… You moved from Phase 2 right into 5…" A slight admission – as good as Stiles was willing to give at the moment. “If you hadn’t crossed it out, we’d still technically be in Phase 4.” He reminded, his head inching a fraction of a centimeter forward.

“There was no declaration of intent." Stiles said, wondering why he was being such a stickler for that plan. “I think this counts.” Derek retorted. The smaller man really couldn’t combat that kind of concrete logic.

"Touché. You're not going to wolf out and tear out my tongue, are you?" He really needed to shut up. “You really know how to ruin a moment, Stilinski.” How could Derek blame him? This was like one of his wildest fantasies coming true. He couldn’t very well hit the ground running.

"Eh well you know me, always talking too much." Okay, now or never. Taking the initiative. Stiles finally leaned in and pressed his lips to Derek’s. It was chaste, and he moved very gingerly, but there it was. It was done. It happened. Derek’s hand found its way to the back of Stiles’ head pulling him back into another kiss. This one deeper, with a type of passion that Stiles never knew he could muster.

It was amazing. The way their lips melded together. Stiles had waited so long… He kissed back, attempting to be sexy by pushing them onto the bed, except in his infinite awkwardness they miss the bed altogether and hit the floor – landing right on top of Derek. "You alright?" Stiles asked, trying to keep his blush at bay. If anything it was something that Derek should’ve expected.

“I’m good, should’ve expected the concussion.” Stiles squeezed his eyes shut, self-consciousness creeping up inside of him again. Instead of succumbing to it, Stiles rolled his eyes. “Just kiss me again, Alpha.” Derek smirked, tongue dragging over his bottom lip. “That shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does.” Score one for Stilinski. A workable sex name. It context it seemed trite, but he really couldn’t be pressed to give a shit right now. It got the job done. 

Derek had lifted his head again to kiss Stiles, but the younger man was chuckling lightly. More excited than anything else. “What, Alpha?” Derek released some kind of grunt at the question – a sound Stiles took as another approval. Derek’s lips were exploring the skin around Stiles’ neck, sending something equivalent to shockwaves down his frame. With a show of strength and agility, Derek flipped them over. Stiles was always one to make a comment. Something about Derek's weight being heavier than his own. Something. But shockingly enough, he was speechless. Momentarily anyways, frustrated that Derek's lips had moved out of his range. "Wanna bring he party back over here? Kinda a two man show here." 

“Shut up.” Derek said back, and Stiles did just that. “Shutting up.” He focused on the man on top of him, kissed and biting lightly at his skin. Each movement sucking the air from his very lungs. Palms flat against the floor, not really certain of the movements he should be making. He hadn’t actually gotten to the porn stage of his plan yet. He’d improvise. Derek was back at his lips now, pulling up on the hem of his shirt, removing it with the greatest ease. 

Or maybe not… One thing was for sure, and that was Stiles was gaining confidence by the second, which was why he was tugging at Derek's shirt, trying  _awkwardly_  to pull it off. It would've been easier if it wasn't so fucking tight. Sensing the struggle, Derek pulled back on his own and peeled the shirt off himself before going back to the kiss. “You’re so hopeless.” He whispered against the kiss. Stiles didn’t care though; his hands were already running up Derek’s back. He was committing every jut and ridge of his back to memory. 

Stiles didn’t know how far they were going to go, but this was a pretty great starting point. Derek broke their kiss and panted down at Stiles, who had quickly found a distraction in Derek’s arm. Eyeballing the definition in his tanned arm and how it contrasted to his own milky skin. “Stiles.” He breathed to get his attention. Eyes catching, Derek pressed on. “If we don’t stop now, I won’t be able to later.” Stiles blinked. Derek was giving him an out if he so chose to take it. What idiot would take it? 

Stiles was a ball of buzzing hormones. Stopping now would surely lead to death or something equally terrible. His mouth opened and he preparing himself for a tirade of foolishness that would equate to one simple phrase. Don't stop. Or maybe even a keep going. Still, his mouth was open and no sound came from it. Maybe it was the sensory overload he felt having all of Derek's body heat on top of him. He wasn't sure. But he had to say something. ANYTHING. "Don't. We don't have to stop. I don't want us to stop. Phase five, remember?"

“I didn’t get to Phase Five, someone snatched the paper from me.” He said in a voice that Stiles didn’t recognize. There was no sarcasm, only a playful happiness. "Good think I have it committed to memory." He smiled, leaning up to kiss Derek once more. "One, kisses. Two, Nudity. Three, Sexy Times. Four, Cuddles. Five, Forever." 

“I think I can get behind that list.” Derek said, smiling as he returned to business. His large hands linked in Stiles’ underwear, pulling them off in one swift motion. When he threw them, he didn’t care where they landed. That was unimportant. "Eh, I thought you might." Stiles tried to say nonchalantly, but it lost all power because of the goofy smile that he wore on his face. For so long he was just Stiles the friend. Stiles the invisible one. The outcast, the loser.

Never once had he thought about what it'd be like as Stiles the lover. Except he was about to find out. His partner? A big not so bad wolf. His breathing hitched as Derek's lips kissed his sensitive stomach, thankful that one of them had experience in this kind of thing. Otherwise it'd be an awkward mess of hands. "Derek." Stiles breathed, for no reason in particular. 

But rather than respond favorably, Derek froze. Before Stiles could ask what was wrong he heard it too. The doorknob turning. 

Enter Sherriff Stilinski. “I thought I told you to mow the lawn, Stiles.” Then he saw it. His eyes stretched and he cleared his throat, thankful for the cover the edge of the bed gave him. The last thing he needed to see was all of this. Derek and Stiles were stiff. Literally and figuratively. Mr. Stilinski blinked again. An awkward situation all around. 

Shit. Fuck. Damn. Tits. Piss. Cock. Balderdash. Stiles wished that he could melt into the ground. Here he was getting all hot and heavy with the hottest man in Beacon Hills and his father had to walk in and ruin it all. Hand covering his eyes, he dared not look at his father directly. "Gonna get on that soon, dad." He said as if there was nothing abnormal about the entire situation. "And I assume Derek will be helping?" Stiles' eyes fell to Derek's, who was nodding without actually looking, before glancing back at his father's feet. "That's the tentative plan." Sheriff Stilinski knew it was wise not to ask too many questions. "Just make sure it gets done. And gets some clothes on first." 

The Sherriff was just about to turn and purge this memory for life, but he stopped. "Let's never mention this again." And with that the Sheriff made hisexit, no doubt to have himself a drink. When the door shut, Derek pulled himself off of Stiles’ smaller frame, kicking his clothes over towards him. Stiles shut his eyes and flailed his arms and legs. He wanted to have sex and wasn't above pitching a fit now that he knew that wasn't going to happen. Sitting up, but not reaching for his clothes right away he sighed, flailing once more. "I'm sorry about that. He was supposed to be gone all day." 

Derek laughed. Stiles assumed if they were feeling the same way, he’d have to in order to keep from crying. “It’s alright. It was… an experience.” That was the understatement of the century. Stiles was going to kill his father. The only saving grace here was that Derek didn't seem too upset. The circumstances were beyond their control, but still. Now he had to cut grass with blue balls. That wasn't fun for anyone. Part of him wanted to initiate the whole thing again, but he knew Derek wouldn't go for it while his dad was home. And with Isaac and Erica hanging around his place that would also be a no go. Fuck. Stiles was never going to get any action. "Fuck." He whined, looking up at Derek. "Can I at least touch it through your pants. That'll keep me from having that aneurysm."

Derek was really beginning to make a habit of laughing, and Stiles was really enjoying it. Actually, he’d enjoy it more when he wasn’t so horny. “Even if you touch it right now, I’m probably still going to have that aneurysm.” Derek said, playing with the hem of his own t-shirt. Truthfully all Stiles heard just then was touch me right now, and without much more thought his hand was on Derek's crotch, memorizing the length and width of what would remain hidden to him for the time being. 

Doing this wasn't really beneficial to anyone involved, but damn it he had to know. "There really isn't anywhere for us to go. Your pups have taken over your place. I mean, dad probably has to work later. And I doubt you want to deal with the mess that we could make in the back of your car." Stiles was pressed for ideas. He wanted Derek now, but there were really no viable options. Stiles' hand was still firmly in place, moving to and fro lightly as he thought. "You're big." He said almost absently.

This time it was Derek who squeezed his eyes shut. The pressure from Stiles’ hand was not helping him in the slightest. “Stiles, cut it out.” He said, a bit of edge returning to his voice as he moved the boy’s hand from his crotch. “Now listen. The puppies as you call them are not at the house. They’re at the subway car. No one is at my house.” It was a last ditch effort, but it was private and that was all they really wanted wasn’t it? Stiles knew the house well.

 There were a lot of… memories there. At least now he'd get to replace some of the bad ones with some of the good. Damn he wanted Derek so bad. The drive across town wouldn't be back, but they had to mow the lawn first. Damn it. "Your house then?" He asked, palming the bulge with his other hand. "This one didn't get a turn." He said cracking a smile.

“My house…” Derek started, reaching out to remove the other hand from his length. “But if you don’t cut it out I’m gonna start without you.” That smirk had returned, and Stiles could feel his body stirring again. They really needed to get that yard work done "Let's not get too hasty."

 Damn it. The lawn. Fucking shit. "Okay, here's what we're going to do. We're going to do the absolute bare minimum with the lawn and then rush to your house to have hot wolf animalistic sex." Stiles hadn't even had Derek yet and was already mesmerized by all the older man had to offer, excitement bubbling in his stomach.

“Sounds good to me.” Derek said in a voice calmer than one Stiles would’ve used… "I'm begging for some enthusiasm." He teased, pulling on his clothes finding the sight of Derek adjusting himself to be more than attractive. "Try not to let my dad see you wielding that thing." Stiles laughed again, though he was cursing inside. But working together they could have the yard work done in an hour max.

“Trust me, if I showed my  _enthusiasm_  now, nothing would get done because you’d be beneath me, naked, and more than likely calling my name.” Derek said with a shrug. Stiles bit down on his lip to focus. "That's more tempting than I care to admit… Have I ever told you how much I love Phase Five?" Stiles grinned again. Stiles never actually thought that his little plan would come to fruition but luckily for him it had.

Stepping around Derek, he palmed his crotch again briefly before pressing his back up against the door. “Stiles.” Derek growled again. Stiles threw his arms up innocently. "Hey, I like toys. You had a big one, couldn't help myself. A phrase about a dog and a bone seems beyond my usual level of cheesy right now, though." Derek rolled his eyes and nudged the boy out of the way. “Let’s just get to work.” 


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles’ head still felt like it was swimming. When he got up this morning the only thing on his schedule was “getting bodied” with Beyoncé and mowing the lawn. Nowhere on that list was making something happen with Operation Woo the Sourwolf. Hell, making something happen was probably the understatement of the _century_. Sex was planned. Actual sex. With _two_ people – Stiles _and_ Derek. Not Stiles and Pornhub.   

There was a God. 

The warm spray of water was the only thing that Stiles could focus on. If he didn’t his mind would wander to places that it really had no business. Wait… What exactly was he supposed to do when it actually happened? The sex. In porn there was a lot of phony dialogue… Did people really do that? Was he supposed to cry out for more? Say something with the phrase ‘hot wet mouth’? Maybe he should practice. The water was loud enough so that no one would hear.

“Yeah, Derek! Right there, baby!” No. Baby seemed phony. Alpha. He liked Alpha. It was a turn on. “Fuck yeah, Alpha!” Closer, but maybe not so excited. 

“Stiles? You alright in there?” His father called awkwardly from the other side of the door. Apparently the shower hadn’t been loud enough. “Go away, dad! I’m fine!” Yeah, he’d never get laid in this house. Not while his father was around with his bionic ears. Speaking of enhanced senses he wondered where Derek had gone… Before he got in the shower he told him that he had to run but would be back before he was done. 

How long was he supposed to be in the shower? Where could he have _feasibly_ gone in the fifteen minutes it took for Stiles to wash the grime and grass clippings off his body? He was dealing with a Super Alpha Werewolf though. Time constraints didn’t mean the same to him as it did for the average person. 

“Save some hot water for the rest of the neighborhood, son!” 

Dads. 

“Dad! I think I’ve got this under control! Thanks for your concern!” His father’s constant pestering wasn’t really doing anything to improve Stiles’ nerves. When he actually thought about it he couldn’t blame him. Not even two hours ago he’d walked in on his son and a _much_ older man in a very compromising position.  If anything Stiles was lucky. Things could’ve gone much worse. 

Too bad he wasn’t _actually_ thinking about it. The only thing that held his attention for more than a few seconds was Derek. Well, Derek’s body. Semantics. Stiles didn’t stay much longer in the shower; the water wasn’t doing anything to clear his head now.  

He stood in the mirror, just kind of looking at himself. A mountain of pale flesh with a little bit of muscle mass – he wasn’t unattractive by any stretch of the imagination. Was he Derek, hot? Hell no. But some how he actually managed to woo his Sourwolf. Score one for the awkward guy!  

Stiles dried off and got dressed, but there was still no sign of Derek. He’d probably pull some Edward Cullen shit and materialize in his bedroom again.

Nope. Still no sign of Derek. Nervousness was beginning to set in. What if Derek decided that this wasn’t what he wanted? The first time could’ve just been adrenaline and he’d since come to his senses. Shit. Stiles dropped face first into his mattress and groaned. Too good to be true, he really should’ve known better. Maybe he was forever suited to be the sidekick, the secondary character that is meant to make everyone else look better without actually getting anything in return. 

Worst of all Stiles was _horny_. 

He cast a glance at his closed door. At least he’d have the experience from earlier burned in his brain forever. His hand traveled to the front of his jeans, raising his hips off the bed so he’d have better access. Without much thought he shoved a hand down the front of his pants and handled himself roughly. He inhaled sharply, it wasn’t the same but some kind of relief was certainly better than nothing. 

He breathed out a soft puff of air as he ground his hips into his fist, eyes still closed tightly trying to recall the memories that he’d just made earlier in the day. The way Derek smelled, the feel of his muscles on top of his body, the way his cock felt through his pants. Derek’s cock was a thing of beauty… Well from what he could tell. It was certainly more sizable than his own. With his free hand Stiles pulled the button of his jeans and tugged down his zipper. 

Forehead pressed into the mattress as dry humped against his bed, hands warm against his flesh. A soft moan passed his lips as a picture of Derek came clearly in his mind. Derek at his most attractive, standing there in a wife beater and black jeans, leather jacket thrown over his shoulder. 

He was smirking but his eyes held that dark intensity that he loved so much. Stiles’ mental eyes focused on the wide expanse that was Derek’s chest. The sheer size of it intimidated and intrigued Stiles all at once. He mentally reached for them palms laying flat against them. Derek’s skin was so much warmer than his own. So much firmer.  

Stiles’ hips continued, slowly moving in and out of his tight fist. Sexual frustration ebbing away – giving way to his own comfort. His hands traveled down Derek’s chest and settled on the bulge in his crotch. It wasn’t difficult to pull that memory to surface. It was almost funny how easily Stiles remembered the dimensions. In his fantasy he wasn’t as shy as he knew he’d be in the off chance that this happened for real. He stuck his right hand down Derek’s pants and gripped his erection, not able to suppress the moan that came from him both in his fantasy and in real time. 

Breaths were becoming more and more ragged as he writhed into his bed, fantasy feeling more real than ever. One hand was on Derek’s taut stomach, lifting the thing material of his wife beater – other hand stroking his length in the confines of those dark jeans.  Stiles wondered why the fantasy version of himself refused to remove the erection from its sheath, maybe because he’d never actually _seen_ the real thing and was blocking the urge to ruin reality with an overdone fantasy. 

So far his fantasy consisted of things he’d done in one way or another. It made sense. Well… It made sense to him. Only Stiles could overanalyze a fantasy sex situation. Whatever. He repositioned himself on the bed, rolling onto his back opening his eyes so that he could prop himself up on his pillows. Eyes opening, he skimmed the room briefly before delving back into his fantasy. At least in his mind he could have Derek anyway he wanted him. His own cock was out of his jeans now, the denim pooling at his thighs as he began to stroke himself again, eyes squeezed tightly as he pictured Derek’s lips on his neck again.  

His hand pumped his length furiously – at least he was going to get _some_ kind of release. “Mm, Derek.” He whispered softly to himself as he brought a hand up to his mouth and spit in it. What teenage boy kept lube readily available anyways? Stiles used his own saliva to slick his cock, which only served to intensify what he was already feeling.  His fantasy was becoming more and more vivid as he pushed past the mental boundaries he’d put up for himself.  

Derek was clad only in his black boxer briefs, and try as he might Stiles couldn’t will him out of them. Fuck. 

Actually maybe there was a way. He pushed his jeans and underwear a bit further down his thighs. This was risky. He hadn’t even locked his door, but he was certain his father would know better than to barge in again. Hormones were driving Stiles right now as he sucked two fingers into his mouth. If his mental version of Derek was going to be as stubborn as the real one he’d have to really commit. Pulling the digits from his mouth, Stiles brought the saliva-slicked fingers to his entrance – pointer finger pressing against the tight ring of muscle. 

“Shit.” He breathed out before biting down on his lip, a _very_ new sensation washing over him. Stiles had wanted Derek so badly, but never even experimented with the idea of anal penetration till now. What he felt was something he couldn’t describe. There was a pressure and it hurt, but it didn’t hurt in a way that he wanted it to stop. It hurt in a way that left him wanting more. He pushed the finger in deeper, teeth bearing down harder as well to keep from yelling out his satisfaction. 

This wasn’t a moment that he wanted his father to intrude on.  

Stiles slowly removed the finger and pushed in a second, the width of his digits stretching his entrance. He breathed out a low moan, mainly because he wasn’t trying to make his lip bleed which was sure to happen if he bit down any harder. Deciding to experiment a bit more, Stiles began to open and close his fingers. Curling them. Bringing them back together. Each movement pleasured him in a way that the last didn’t. 

Fuck. Maybe he didn’t need Derek. He has his hands and his vivid imagination. Mental Derek was on call whenever he wanted him, not like _real_ Derek who got a guy all worked up and ditched him while he was in the shower. 

Stiles would be pissed about that later.  

Right now he was focused on the fingers in his ass and the tight grip he had on his own dripping cock. This had to be the most intense masturbation session that he had ever had, and it was all thanks to his absentee Sourwolf. He wasn’t sure whether to love him or hate him. Hate him, definitely. Because discovering how amazing his fingers felt inside of him, Derek’s cock would’ve felt _that_ much better. Stiles was honestly surprised at how much he enjoyed his ass being worked over. He’d overheard Danny talking about sexual classifications during gay sex. What was it called when you loved to have cock in your ass? 

Oh. Power Bottom. 

Stiles Stilinski: Power Bottom. 

Interesting thought. 

One that he actually thought he could get behind, despite the fact that he’d never had an actual dick in his ass. Whatever. 

Another quick position change. Stiles was now on all fours, head buried in his pillow – teeth clenched against the smooth fabric of his pillowcase. His pants pooled as his knees, right hand pumping his cock while two fingers on his left hand probed at his own hungry hole. He was whining softly into his bed, orgasm threatening to spill over at any given moment. Sweat was forming on his brow, his shirt beginning to cling to his hot skin as he pumped both hands in their respective positions. 

His head was now moving on its own accord, literally rutting against the mattress. He was going insane. The mental version of Derek had finally slid his substantial length into Stiles, but his mind still wouldn’t allow him to form a mental picture of it. Stubborn ass Derek turned him around before taking his underwear off. 

Stiles’ mouth was open now, but no sound came out. His sexual high was so intense that he was actually rendered _speechless_. Unheard of.  

“Who’d have thought that this is what it took to shut you up.” 

As per usual, Stiles flailed – scrambling to pull his comforter around himself. The voice hadn’t registered to him. All he knew was there was someone talking when previously it’d just been him and his breathing. Stiles felt almost safe in his little hovel underneath his comforter shielding himself from any onlookers. 

“And you told me not to start without you. Looks like you almost finished _without_ me.” Derek said shaking his head lightly. 

Despite knowing it was Derek that caught him and not someone else, Stiles remained in his sanctuary. He was probably the brightest shade of scarlet right now. The guy he’d been fantasizing about had caught him in the act. In hindsight it shouldn’t be as embarrassing seeing as a few hours ago Derek was gearing up to fuck him. 

“I thought you ditched me.” Stiles murmured, clinging to his comforter. He tried not to sound too… Disheartened. It would probably go unnoticed by Derek considering he lacked a full spectrum of human emotion. Not that Stiles would know one way or the other considering the fact that he refused to look at Derek. 

“I told you I’d be back.” 

“Before I got out of the shower.” He started; falling back against the bed letting the lower part of his legs stick out. “As you can see I’ve been out of the shower for a while.” 

Was Derek actually laughing at him, _again_? Truthfully, it was probably a funny sight. A sexually frustrated teenager essentially throwing a tantrum because he hadn’t gotten what he wanted when he wanted it. 

“I had something to take care of first.” The way Derek spoke was strange. It was authoritative, but gentle at the same time. Like Stiles was free to ask more questions if he wanted to though Derek would’ve preferred he didn’t. The younger boy was quiet for a fraction of a second as his brain tried to work out the tone. 

“You picked now of all times to run errands?” Stiles’ voice was incredulous. “What’d you do? Go pick up some puppy chow for the kids?”

“You’re actually mad.” There was more humor in Derek’s voice. Weird. What was stranger was that Derek actually picked up on his shift in mood. It wasn’t a difficult thing to notice, obviously. What was out of the ordinary was that he was actually upset. Anger wasn’t an emotion that Stiles frequented, so when it crept into him just now he wasn’t consciously aware of it. Oh and let’s not forget that Derek was clearly _amused_ by it. 

“No. I’m not mad. I’m fucking horny and I’ve been blue balled **_twice_**.” 

Derek laughed, one of those breathy little sounds like someone had just punched him in the stomach. Stiles heard him rustling around, pulling at his comforter. Part of him wanted to hold onto it and make Derek work a little harder, but he resisted. Derek had lifted it just enough to poke his head in. 

“If you come out of there we can actually do something about it.”

And there was the smirk. 

Fuck! It wasn’t a dream. Derek Hale was still going to be a willing participant in the deflowering of Stiles Stilinski… Well, _partial_ deflowering seeing as his own fingers had been doing a pretty good job of it just a moment ago. 

Stiles conceded and pulled the covers off of his body. “Give me a second to fix myself.” He said, pulling his shirt up and over his head. This one was gross already. 

“I can’t believe you were actually fingering yourself.” 

“Shut up.” Stiles almost spat as he stuffed himself back into his jeans and clasped the button. 

“Were you thinking about me?” Derek asked, that fucking smirk spreading across his lips again. 

“No, ass. I was thinking about Jackson.” Biting sarcasm tasted so good with a side of blue balls. Stiles bent over to pick up another t-shirt. Upon standing again Derek shoved him into the wall again, except this time Stiles was facing the wall and Derek was pressed against him from behind. Stiles beat his head lightly against the wall, unable to resist bucking his hips backwards into Derek – who was still surprisingly hard.  

“Doesn’t seem like you were thinking about Jackson.” Derek said, hand gripping Stiles’ hip tightly as he writhed his crotch into Stiles’ ass. “I’m pretty sure this is all _mine_.” Derek growled in Stiles’ ear. Confidence hung on his every word, and if that wasn’t enough he slapped Stiles _hard_ on the ass. “Your Sourwolf, remember?” 

Damn it he knew how to play hardball. Spanking was getting filed away as one of those kinks that Stiles enjoyed. Did Derek refer to himself as Stiles’? Interesting turn of events. He’d never thought in a million years he’d have such a privilege. 

“Okay, okay. I was fantasizing about you.” Stiles conceded without a fight. Besides, he wasn’t really in a position to put up much of one anyways. He was too busy writhing against that bulge. 

“Look at you, all eager. How good was I?” Derek seemed to be having too much fun with all these, which made Stiles roll his eyes. “How about you fuck me for real and you’ll see for yourself.” Stiles said, and Derek growled again. It was filled with something. Now that uncontrolled anger that he usually had, but with a sexual desire that had chills running down Stiles’ spine.  

“Let’s go.”

Stiles knew one thing for sure… His fantasy was going to have _nothing_ on reality. 


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles felt like a puppy that had yet to be house broken. A ball of energy concentrated into a tiny capsule. His body literally felt like it was vibrating. It wasn't. Or if it was, Derek said nothing about it. Part of him felt like he should be nervous, but he was strangely content. Not content, per se. It was that feeling in the pit of your stomach you got when you feel just a bit overconfident about a test you know you didn't study for.

As per usual, Derek was calm. If it were possible he seemed even sterner behind the wheel of his Camaro. His green eyes were covered by the metallic plating of his sunglasses. Stiles was finding it increasingly difficult not to stare. Everything about Derek was bulging. His chest. His biceps. His thighs. His crotch.

From what Stiles could tell, Derek was still erect. It was close enough for Stiles to reach out and touch. At the very least Derek would growl at him again. That would be enough to hold him over until they got to the house. He took a deep breath and forced himself to look out of the window at the blur that was Beacon Hills.

How fitting.

Before all the werewolves, hunters, kanimas, and overall supernatural debauchery Beacon Hills was painfully boring. Stiles' biggest problem had been trying to figure out how to get more playing time in lacrosse. By more he obviously meant any playing time at all.

That seemed like such a lifetime away. Like the prelude to this new life he lived. A life filled with creatures of the imagination – an existence where his heart libido belonged to the Alpha of a pack of teenaged werewolves. Some mornings he Stiles felt like he was going to wake up and realize that this was all some crazy plot cooked up in his head after a binge of weed, Chips Ahoy, and Wes Craven flicks.

So far so good.

No freaks with razor sharp gloves running around in Christmas sweaters.

Well, that was if you excluded those weird layer sweater things Gerard wore. Stiles chuckled to himself. Equating Gerard and Freddy Kruger was amusing to him, especially when you thought about how weird the old man's facial structure as a whole was.

The real stuff nightmares are made of.

"You're uncharacteristically quiet." Derek said, shattering the ever-growing scenario in his mind of Gerard tormenting the children of Elm Street.

Stiles shrugged. He was honestly surprised that Derek even mentioned it. So often he told him that he talked too much. Stiles figured a little silence would do them good. Not to mention the fact that he wasn't sure what he'd do if he actually allowed his mouth to open.

If he kept his eyes on the passing landscape – which was really hard to do with these tinted windows – maybe he could have some kind of conversation without trying to maul Derek.

No promises.

"In case you hadn't noticed, I'm literally radiating sexual energy. One disturbance in the force and I'm going to go insane."

This time it was Derek who was silent. The house was at the very least another ten minutes out. The Hale House was nestled right in the middle of the woods. No real roads or anything lead directly to it. Which was strange – or would be had Stiles not known the truth about the family.

"The force?" A question that Stiles didn't think he'd have to answer. Star Wars fan or not, everyone knew the basics.

"You're joking right? What jackass doesn't know what the force is?" Stiles was still incredulous, and as per usual Derek remained his poised self. Though Stiles was sure he was looking at him from the corner of his eye despite his forward facing position.

Silence, again.

"I just didn't know you were a Jedi. Kinda puts things in perspective." Was that a joke? Sure it was. Was it funny? Not at all. The set up was all wrong and the punch line was flat… Wait. Was Stiles really sitting here analyzing bad jokes? Was he that comfortable with the idea that soon he and Derek would be having actual sex? Or was he content not to think about it till the actual act began.

Shit. He was thinking about it again, and as if on cue his cock was hard again. Straining against his jeans.

Derek's attention seemed to shift briefly from the road and to Stiles. It was a movement so subtle that Stiles was sure he'd made it up. "Did your cock just twitch?" Derek asked, once again making it sound like the most normal question in the world.

"No." Stiles lied. He was feeling slightly embarrassed, but he wasn't sure why. Derek was hard and had been since before they'd gotten in the car yet he showed no signs of being the least bit bashful. Maybe Stiles should've felt proud that he was what put it there.

He did. He knew he was proud of himself for that.

The real reason he was so frustrated with his own body was that twice today he'd been worked to his brink only to be pushed right back down. Hell, Stiles couldn't decipher his feelings and was done trying. He was thinking about the house. It's seclusion. It's privacy.

Though something still bothered him. It was likely the uneasy feeling he got whenever he was near that house. That house had been the catalyst of a lot of horrific events in his life. Events that he was not about to sit and rehash right before he went to have sex.

Sex.

Sex in the Hale house.

It was that moment his mind formed the link.

Stiles would be losing his virginity in a charred old house that was likely to fall sooner rather than later. That place was to be committed to his memory for life now. Something a kin to an Oasis nestled in a desert of the most traumatic moments of Stiles' life.

Still the place was more or less on the lower end on the places that he wanted to lose his virginity. The backseat of the Camaro would've been a good place, though once again Stiles knew better than to suggest it.

They'd left Beacon Hills behind now and there were nothing but trees on either side of them now. Five minutes till the house. Stiles stole a glance at Derek again who could have quite possibly been displeased by the overall disjointedness of their conversations. Both times he tired to initiate conversation, both times he was shot down with one-word answers or less than ideal retorts to his attempts at humor.

Except Derek seemed… Comfortable?

His brow wasn't furrowed. His jaw wasn't clinched. Hands were loose on the steering wheel. Derek was betraying no real emotion, aside from the erection.

Good sign.

Regardless, Stiles felt like he needed to make up for his behavior. Which was why he slid his hand over between Derek's legs, warm hand palming the hard on. Stiles was surprised by how warm the area was, though he shouldn't have been.

He thought of dogs in heat, but that seemed disrespectful.

Derek still didn't move. Stiles was studying him while his hand explored. It was like Derek was on autopilot. Maybe he was immune to this little game. Or was too sexually in control of himself to be too affected by this again. Earlier their hormones were at a high and anything would set them off. Derek had had time to get back in control of himself.

Stiles couldn't have that.

His hand traveled north, and he felt his body tense. His bravery didn't leave him though as he pulled Derek's zipper. Stiles was sure he heard Derek's breathing shift as he stuck his hand through the hole, fingertips teasing the long shaft.

"Stiles." Derek said with what Stiles determined was a great effort. His tone was a cross between warning and whining. Stiles liked that. He squeezed the length lightly and there was a noticeable change around them this time.

"What?" Stiles asked.

"Stop." Derek's voice was gruff. That growl was coming back. That lust filled growl that made Stiles want to cum right there.

As usual, the younger man persisted. His hand ran over the material of Derek's underwear, loving the way his cock literally throbbed under his touch. "You know what'd be awesome?"

Derek didn't answer.

Stiles didn't either… Not right away. He was fiddling with Derek's underwear again. Trying to pull him through the opening in the front of his underwear. Derek's teeth were pressing into his bottom lip now. Stiles was close to fishing the dick all the way out when Derek's hand gripped his wrist.

"What are you doing?" Derek growled. The sound came straight from his loins and Stiles felt like his eyes were going to roll into the back of his head.

"What do you think I'm doing?" Stiles countered.

"No." Derek said simply. "It's way too dangerous."

"What the hell? You have werewolf reflexes, you can totally handle it." Stiles wasn't giving up on this without a fight. Though he knew when Derek had made up his mind about something it wasn't likely to change. He'd acknowledge the fact that Derek knew what he was after without him even getting that far, later.

"I'm still a man, Stiles." Derek started, head turning to full on face Stiles now. "And if you try and suck my dick while we're driving I'm going to lose control and we're going to crash and you would probably die. Is that what you want?"

"Is that a trick question?"

Derek stopped the car. Now, two things could happen now. One (the likely option) Stiles was about to be put out. He couldn't even get a sexcapade right. Idiot. He was just trying to be sexy. A lot of guys thought car head was hot. The rush of it all. Stiles had gotten the one guy who wanted to obey traffic laws. Anyways, his second option. Derek could decide to fuck him right there on the side of the road.

Neither idea came to pass.

"I swear to God Stilinski." Derek was speaking through his teeth. It was intimidating and sexy all at the same time. The white-hot kiss that followed re-ignited Stiles' already blazing hormones. "I am going to fuck the shit out of you."

Well. There's an idea. "You're not very good at this whole threatening thing anymore."

"It's a promise."

The car was in motion again. Stiles could see the house now, just as dark and dank as it had always been. Fortunately Stiles was wrapped in his own hormone induced stupor that he didn't care anymore. Bad memories be damned. His hand was still in Derek's pants, and the 'threat' still hung in the air. Derek had steeled himself again, but he was driving faster now. The harsh turn and abrupt stop were almost enough to send Stiles through the windshield had it not been for his seatbelt.

"Thanks for the whiplash." Stiles spat sarcastically, but it fell upon deaf ears because Derek had already stepped out of the car and was heading up towards the house. Nervousness was pooling in the pit of Stiles' stomach again. The house itself wasn't scary. Like, the things in it didn't scare him. The idea of the whole place capsizing was what intimidated him.

But his need to get plowed outweighed his sense of good judgment in this instance.

Derek pushed the door open. Stiles supposed there was no need for locked doors when you were a walking security system in the middle of the woods. Convenient. When they were over the threshold, Stiles expected to go left and be shepherded into the great room, as he was any other time he was here. Not this time. Derek stood at the foot of the stairs and stared at him quizzically.

"Where are you going?" He asked, leaning on the railing that Stiles thought was going to disintegrate under his touch.

"Where are you going?" Stiles repeated. "We're not doing it here?"

Derek shook his head. "No, believe it or not there are actual bedrooms here."

Stiles wanted to say something biting and sarcastic, but he couldn't. Primarily because he hadn't actually considered the fact that this house had a real upstairs. That a real live family actually dwelled here once upon a time. Derek took the stairs two a time and was clearly more confident than Stiles who was afraid to put his full weight down on any of them.

With his luck one would break and he'd have to go to the hospital or something. Which would mean, no sex.

Stiles was not about to risk Derek's body eluding him again.

Derek led Stiles towards the door at the far end of the house. Stiles' stomach felt like it was tied in a thousand knots – twisting and turning inside of him. He couldn't imagine what kind of scorched bed that Derek was going to convince him to lay on.

Stiles knew he'd do it, which wasn't a thought that comforted him in the slightest. Still, he followed Derek all the way to the door.

Part of him wanted to close his eyes when Derek opened the door, but he refrained. Stiles stepped inside and stared. This didn't make a lot of sense. This room was clearly in better condition that the rest of the house. Stiles stared at the big bed that sat on no frame in the middle of the floor. Dark blue sheets draped over it, streaming sunlight lit the room.

"Has this always been here?" Stiles asked, confused – thankful the bed wasn't charred.

"As of a couple hours ago." Derek's voice was even, but Stiles could tell he was smiling without actually having to turn and look at him. The knots in his stomach relaxed momentarily as it hit him.

"This was what you were doing when you left."

"I didn't want your first time to be on some sooty floor. Even I know you deserve better than that."

Were they having a moment? Stiles had no sarcastic retort. Derek's voice held no malice or annoyance. His voice was so inviting without that edge. Rather than speak further, Stiles turned and pulled Derek's lips to his own. This kiss said everything that he hadn't. It was his gratitude, his excitement, and his anxiety all rolled up onto one.

This was not his fantasy. He had no control over Derek here. He couldn't will his clothes away.

It was no longer one sided.

Derek's hands were holding Stiles in place by the waist. His hands were always so warm. He wasn't even squeezing hard, but Stiles could feel the strength in his fingers. Stiles wasn't sure what to do now, so he pulled from earlier. His mouth opened and he pushed his tongue passed Derek's lips – their tongues wrestling.

Derek's grip shifted from Stiles' hip to the nape of his ass, lifting the boy's leg around his waist picking him up with little to no effort. This only served to turn Stiles on more. He linked his ankles at Derek's lower back, refusing to break the kiss for any reason. As long as they stayed connected like this his nerves would remain at bay. He shifted his head and attacked Derek's mouth from another angle, and the Alpha responded with as much passion as Stiles.

The bed was getting ever closer as Derek approached. Stiles wasn't sure what to expect when Derek laid him down against the plush mattress.

He studied it with the back of his mind. It was soft and felt new. Stiles found himself wondering where Derek actually got this mattress. Was it new? Had he stolen it from somewhere? He didn't know, and right now he knew that he shouldn't care. His Sourwolf was on top of him right now, their clothed erections creating a friction that Stiles had only dreamt of before today.

This was already more intense than his fantasy and they were still fully clothed. Why were they still fully clothed? Stiles broke the kiss, but Derek took the separation – not to breathe – but to attack the crook of Stiles' neck. His lips, teeth, and tongue grazing the spot. A usual hickey.

Except… Something was off about it. It was like Derek was marking his territory, which Stiles didn't mind. As long as he wasn't trying to pee on him it was fine.

Stiles' hand slid up Derek's body and rested on the back of his head, fingertips gently grazing the raven hair trying to keep his thoughts together as Derek continued to make little marks on his neck. Opening his legs wider, he left Derek settle in between them. His Sourwolf's thrusts beginning to come quicker with more force.

Derek was literally fucking him with their clothes on.

Yeah the clothes had to go, now. "Derek…" Stiles whined whispered. Derek was once again a step ahead of him. Leaning back on his haunches – their crotches still connected – Derek lifted his hand and claws sprouted from his nails. With a quick swipe the shirt was split open and Stiles' bare torso was exposed.

Stiles felt obligated to say something. "I liked that shirt."

"Who cares?" Derek retorted, leaning down to press his lips to the smooth skin of his chest, his hands holding onto Stiles' waist once again.

"Touché." Speaking was difficult. No one had ever kissed or even touched these sensitive areas of Stiles' milky white body before. He was taking notes so that he could replicate when it was his turn. He refused to look like an idiot now. Tonight was his night to shine and he wasn't going to fuck that up.

Derek shh'd him as he leaned over his right nipple. The closer he got to it, the more Stiles' cock twitched in his jeans. When the tongue and teeth combination hit his head writhed into the bed. It felt like his nerve endings were on fire and he never wanted to be without this feeling again.

He felt useless up here. He was doing nothing for Derek and Derek was doing everything for him. The heat was on his other nipple now, and Stiles was on cloud 9. He kicked his sneakers off and tried to think of a way to get involved. Derek was peppering his chest with soft kisses now. This was his opening. In porn the guys managed to wrestle each other for position. Maybe that would work?

Stiles gripped Derek by the waist and shifted his hips. But Stiles should've known that Derek's center of gravity was perfect. Derek laughed. "What're you doing?"

"Just get on the bottom."

"You were trying to flip me over?"

"You're still on top of me."

Never without the banter. Derek conceded though, and rolled them over leaving Stiles astraddle on top of him. Tattered remains of his shirt hanging loosely from his arms. That was going to be the first to go. Now that he was fully topless he could focus on Derek now. His hands ran the length of Derek's torso, able to feel every perfect angle and muscle beneath the thin black t-shirt.

When his hands reached the collar, he gripped and pulled… The shirt tore! It actually tore on his first try. Fuck yeah. Stiles pulled until all of Derek's torso was exposed, smirking down at Derek who seemed impressed.

Okay Stiles. Time to show what you can do.

He was talking to himself again.

Leaning down, Stiles caught Derek's lips again. Kissing him deeply, his tongue a bit more rough this time. His movements as a whole were rougher than he meant for them to be. Derek was the Alpha wolf; Stiles didn't want to be taken by a puppy. He knew he wanted Derek at his most animalistic. Er—well not most animalistic. But close.

Stiles' fingers caught Derek's nipples and squeezed them causing Derek to moan loudly into their kiss. Stiles could hear the growl settling in his stomach. He had to hear it soon. Stiles moved down, feeling Derek's eyes following him. His lips kissing down Derek's very taut midsection. There was a destination in mind, and he was willing to bypass over steps to get to it.

Hands fumbled with Derek's belt and when it was open, the button and zipper were much easier to remove. This was the moment of truth. Gripping the sides of the pants, Stiles tugged and Derek helped by lifting his hips. The pants weren't hard to remove and Stiles heard the distinctive sound of erection slapping against stomach. He hadn't looked up yet. Suddenly feeling almost intimidated.

He forced himself to look – he almost fainted.

Derek Hale naked was something that a person needed to see before dying. One of those rites of passage. Though now Stiles was selfish. This prize was his and his alone. No one would ever do this to him. No one would make that cock jut proudly upwards the way Stiles had. He was going to see to that fact.

How was he going to proceed? He'd never actually… sucked cock before. It couldn't be that hard. He'd been deep throating Bomb Pops since he was six. Derek's cock wasn't too much bigger. Except it kind of was… Okay. Stop overthinking it. It was go time.

Stiles pressed his lips to Derek's inner thigh. His right hand trailed up Derek's body, palming his abs. Stiles was committing every bit of this to memory. No more would he have to speculate what Derek's cock would feel like, because he'd know first hand. Stiles' tongue ran the length of Derek's balls all the way to the tip of his cock, and he could've sworn that he felt Derek shiver.

Another long lick – another taste committed to memory.

The palm of Stiles' hand wrapped around Derek's cock and gave it a squeeze. It felt bigger around than he'd given it credit for. He pumped the cock up and down roughly, and Derek's hips arched up off the bed into Stiles' touch. His mouth loomed over the head, breathing hot breaths over and sending shockwaves up and down Derek's spine.

He was practically crooning for Stiles' mouth, and the younger boy was happy to oblige. Stiles opened his mouth wide and started to go down, but Derek's cock was big. Eight and a half inches, maybe more. Plus, this was Stiles' first time sucking dick. The taste of Derek's cock was like a drug for Stiles who was now eagerly trying to push more inches down his throat. His ambition caused him to choke.

"Sorry. It's big." Stiles whispered, lips still at the head of Derek's dick. "It's fine, just keep going."

Okay. He could do that. This time when he took the length he got half way down before inhaling sharply through his nose and taking a few more inches. It was only then that Stiles noticed the hand massaging his scalp lightly. That excited him and he pulled up and bobbed down again, wanting to pleasure Derek as best he could.

"Stiles." Derek moaned.

Stiles picked up the pace again. "Stiles." He moaned again – which Stiles once again took as a sign of encouragement.

"Teeth, Stiles. Teeth." Derek said finding some kind of sternness in his voice again. Unfortunately Stiles' mind was hardwired for one thing right now and it was cock.

"What the hell are you saying?" Stiles asked, almost sounding offended that Derek was trying to distract him.

"Watch the teeth." Derek retorted, before pushing Stiles' mouth back down on his cock. And like a good little boy, Stiles went back to his work careful not to let his teeth scrape Derek up too much. It was a difficult feat considering his girth, but Stiles must've been doing a better job. There was a lot more spit now and Derek was full on moaning now.

"There you go. Get it nice and wet so I can fuck you." Fuck. Somewhere along the way Stiles had forgotten that this tool was supposed to go in his other end sooner or later. The thought thrilled and intimidated him all at once. He honestly wasn't sure if he could take it all, but as horny as he was it'd take a sheer act of God for him not to try.

Stiles pulled up and wrapped his hand around the base of the cock and began to suck solely on the head while jerking Derek off. The larger man's hands were twisting in the bed sheets, trying to keep himself together. For a first timer Stiles felt like he was doing a pretty good job.

Stiles Stilinski: Cocksucking Extraordinaire!

Derek's hips were lifting off the bed, pushing his length further and further into Stiles' throat. "Come on, Stiles. You can take the whole thing. I know you can." Derek's voice. That fucking growl was coming. It was getting closer and closer to the surface. Stiles could hear it whenever Derek spoke to him. He felt his eyes watering as he bottomed out on Derek, and they just kind of sat there. Derek was trembling and Stiles was trying not to choke to death.

When Derek's hips fell back against the table, Stiles pulled up for air. He tried his best not to cough, and was surprisingly successful at it. But Derek was horny and was as close to wolf mode as he could get without actually going wolf. Sexual haze did that to him, Stiles deduced. Because their mouths were crashing together again, Derek's lips bruising Stiles'.

Derek was about to claim Stiles.

Was he ready? Stiles sure as fuck hoped so.

With a quick motion, Stiles was on the bottom again. Derek staring down at with hungry eyes. His hands were rough against Stiles' body now. When they found his belt it was stood no chance. Derek pulled it from his body with ease and pulled his jeans down with such force the button went flying somewhere across the room. Stiles made a note to himself to bring an extra change of clothes next time.

His underwear? Annihilated. Stiles' stomach knotted again despite his erection jutting from his own body. He was expecting Derek to take his length into his mouth, but he was wrong. Derek pulled his legs up onto his shoulders and laid flat against the bed. Derek was travelling south.

No fucking way.

That's when Stiles felt it. Derek's spongy tongue at his entrance, pushing and probing. The tight ring of muscle stood no chance against Derek. The man pushed right by it with ease, which made Stiles' back arch off the bed and dig his heels into Derek's back. "FUCK!" Stiles was so thankful that they were out in the middle of nowhere, because he knew that he was about to be loud.

"Tell me how much you love it, Stiles." Derek muttered against Stiles' hole, tongue tickling it. "You taste so good." He added to the end

"Put your tongue back in there, come on. Keep tongue fucking me, it feels so good." Stiles was not above whining – which was precisely what he was doing. He was crying out for Derek who was kind enough to give him what he wanted without too much of a fight. His tongue continued to probe and lick around Stiles' warm velvety depths. This hole was unchartered and Derek was looking forward to feeling it stretch around him.

Derek brought a hand up to Stiles' cock and gripped it hard. "Don't cum, Stiles. Not till I say you can."

"That's easier said than done." It was hard for Stiles to form a coherent sentence, but he'd managed to. It only got him a particularly rough squeeze from Derek.

"You do what I say and it'll feel so much better when I tell you to let go." At least his motives weren't selfish. It was just that Stiles' sexual high had reached critical levels and he wasn't sure if he could handle being eaten and jerked all at once. But he'd have to figure out a way because Derek was not showing any signs of stopping. His fist continued to pump Stiles' cock and his tongue continued to eat his hole.

"I'm going to stick a couple fingers inside you." Derek said, sucking two of his fingers into his mouth. Stiles was silent. He knew he was still loose from earlier with his own fingers, but he was going to let Derek do his thing. His body welcomed the fingers without much struggle at all. The earlier session and the stellar rim job from earlier had Stiles loose. Derek was still slow.

Which Stiles didn't like.

"Come on, Derek."

Still slow – which was why Stiles reached down and grabbed Derek by the wrist and pushed the fingers deeper into his ass. He moaned out as Derek looked at him kind of wide-eyed, clearly not prepared for Stiles' burst of aggression. Nevertheless he went with it, pulling his fingers out and shoving them back in roughly opening Stiles' body up. If he was going to be like this then Derek was surely going to keep his promise and fuck the shit out of Stiles.

Fuck him raw and fuck him hard.

"You ready for me Stiles?" Derek asked, voice gruff – fingers still probing.

"Fuck me, Derek." Stiles whined. He wanted to cum. He wanted to get fucked. He wanted to cum while getting fucked.

Derek shifted on the bed, leaving Stiles' legs up on his shoulders he looked down in his eye, head of his cock teasing Stiles' entrance. "You're sure?" Despite his animalistic urge to ream Stiles he was refraining. This was Stiles' first time and Derek didn't want to be the asshole that took advantage of him just because he was horny.

"Derek. Put your fucking dick in me now." Stiles said, with a roll of the eyes. They'd come that far, why would he ruin it by asking Derek to stop? Derek laughed. That throaty sound again, but he was doing what Stiles wanted. He was pushing the head of his slick cock to Stiles' entrance.

They both swore, almost in unison. This hurt a bit more than Stiles thought that it would, he felt like someone was skewering him, which was technically what was happening. "You're so tight." Stiles wanted to say 'no shit', but the words didn't come. All he did was whimper curse words as he felt Derek open him up. When Derek was half sheathed inside of Stiles he stopped to let the smaller man adjust to the intrusion.

Stiles squeezed his eyes shut, but tried his hardest not to let his face register too much pain. The last thing he wanted was for Derek to abandon ship because it hurt too much. Stiles inhaled sharply and forced his body to relax. When he opened his eyes he could see Derek staring at him. No doubt waiting for some kind of sign.

"Keep going." Stiles whispered surprised that his voice hadn't shook and crumbled.

Derek followed instruction and continued to push his length inside of Stiles. Just a few more inches remained and Stiles took them happily. Derek was growling now. A low sound, and Stiles realized that he was probably adjusting just like he'd had to. "You alright?" Derek asked, eyes locking with Stiles'.

"Never been better." Stiles retorted, though Derek still didn't move. "You know you can start with the in and out now." He strained to say, but even filled to the brim with cock he had a smart mouth.

"Shut up, Stiles." Derek growled – once again not one of those intimidating sounds.

"I'm just say—" Stiles was cut off by a particularly sharp thrust from Derek. The smaller man moaned at the sudden movement. His asshole throbbed, but it was the best kind of pain he'd ever felt in his life. Derek had changed again. A moment ago he was making sure Stiles was all right, but now that animal was back.

He slipped his hand behind Stiles' head and pulled him upwards, smashing their lips together. "Remember what the promise I made you?" He growled. Definitely intimidating this time.

"I am going to fuck the shit out of you."

Derek was a man / wolf of his word, because after that sharp thrust another followed. Derek's grip on Stiles' thighs was tight the smaller man was pinned against the bed. His mouth was open and he was cursing, head arching and burying itself into the bed. He was sure he looked possessed. Derek didn't seem to notice, or if he did he used it for motivation.

Stiles was loving this and Derek was content to give him more. His hips slammed against Stiles' ass at an almost blindingly rapid pace. If he had his way Stiles wasn't going to be walking out of there. Pushing Stiles' legs open he leaned in and braced himself on both sides of the bed next to Stiles' head. Derek ground his hips into Stiles, his cock sinking deeper than it had before. With the way he was moving Stiles could tell that he was searching for something inside his body.

His sweet spot.

And fuck all he was hitting it now, and Stiles was going wild. Arms wrapping around Derek's back, hanging onto him like a koala. Nails drug deep red lines into Derek's muscles, and there it was.

The growl.

"You want it rough?" Derek asked, eyes dark and brows raised. Stiles must've upped the ante with his overzealous behavior. Derek stabbed him with his cock a little harder. "Come on, Stiles. I asked you a question." This time he pulled his cock out completely and Stiles immediately felt hollow. Fuck he needed Derek back inside of him.

"Yeah, I want it rough. As rough as you can be." He whined, which Derek found slightly amusing.

With his grip returning to Stiles' leg he filled him over again. Derek brought his hand down to his ass; licking his lips he smacked Stiles hard. The sound of rough hands hitting the soft flesh of Stiles' ass echoed through the room.

"Again." Stiles said before taking the sheets in his mouth as a brace. Derek complied. Another hard smack on Stiles' ass. There were going to be red marks there, definitely. That thought was more of a turn on than it should've been. Another reminder of who had claimed him.

Stiles shivered. Derek's cock was at his entrance again, teasing around the edge again. "Arch your back." Derek said, but didn't wait for Stiles to do it. His palm flattened on the small of his back and pushed down. Stiles followed the movement and raised his ass higher in the air.

"Put it in, Alpha."

With one good thrust, Derek was buried to the hilt inside of Stiles again. It hurt like a motherfucker, but Stiles knew he'd learn to enjoy it. He wanted Derek to be rough with him and that was what he was getting now. The roughness of the Alpha wolf. Something about being called Alpha just turned Derek on. Maybe because Stiles wasn't actually under any ancient rules to follow him, but he seemed to anyways.

Maybe this was why he was so content to be rough with him. A primal cue to show him who was boss.

Plus he had the tightest most amazing ass he'd ever fucked.

Whatever the case, Stiles was having the time of his life. This was literally his fantasy come true. Derek was fucking him hard from the back, pulling his body onto his cock with such velocity that Stiles was sure it was going to shoot out of his mouth.

His own cock had been untouched but it was stiffening and he knew that he was going to cum soon. Three sexual high points in the day, he was pretty sure he'd earned a nice hard cum shot. He rocked his own hips back against Derek, meeting his rough thrusts. Derek seemed surprised, which was why he pushed Stiles' head down into the mattress.

A not so subtle way of saying that he had this under control? Probably.

Derek continued to rock his hips into Stiles' body opening him up and pummeling his prostate. Stiles was whining now, a string of words that made no sense. Things like 'honey butter fuck shit.' Stiles was literally beside himself with pleasure as Derek fucked him.

An arm wrapped around his chest and effortlessly pulled Stiles back up. "Cum for me Stiles." Derek growled in his ear, but made no effort to grab his cock. He just kept fucking. Hard, deep thrusts into Stiles. Clearly Derek had a plan. He didn't need to touch Stiles because this amazing stimulation was enough to send him over the edge without a single touch.

Stiles wanted to swear as he came, but words choked him. All he could do was moan as spurt after spurt of cum came flying out of his cock. It painted the sheets and had gone as far as the wall in front of him. If he wasn't so drunk, he'd be proud of himself. Derek continued to hold onto him, continued to fuck him. But his own thrusts were erratic now and Stiles knew he was going to cum soon too.

"Keep fucking me, Alpha." He whispered between deep panting breaths. If Derek wasn't holding onto him he would've collapsed.

Derek obliged trying to get to his own impending orgasm. He wasn't sure where Stiles actually wanted it though. Should he just make the decision on his own? No. That's not cool. "Where do you want it?"

"Huh?" Stiles breathed. "Want what?"

Derek continued fucking, but couldn't hide his eye roll. "My cum, Stiles. Where do you want me to shoot it?"

Well this wasn't something he'd actually thought about before. He blinked, but his mind was still fuzzy. "Not a whole lot of time to decide." Derek added.

This wasn't an SAT question. There were only a few places where it could actually go. Stiles furrowed his brow. "Stiles!"

"Mouth!" He said in a voice a kin to panic.

Derek pulled out and pushed Stiles down into the bed, letting him land right in his own pool of cum. Quickly Derek straddled Stiles' face. "Open."

Stiles did as he was instructed; mouth hanging open and Derek inserted himself, bracing himself on the wall. His breathing was ragged and Stiles knew what was coming. One of Derek's hands held him in place by the neck, and Stiles focused on the cock in his mouth. It was such a weird thing, tasting himself on Derek's cock. Before today he would've thought it was gross.

It was actually hot.

Speaking of hot… Derek's load erupted right in Stiles' mouth. Cum hit the back of his throat and filled his mouth quickly. Derek held onto him. Stiles wanted the cum in his mouth, so he was going to get it. Besides, he wouldn't be able to stop himself even if he wanted to. What felt like ten volleys of cum came shooting from Derek's cock and Stiles did his best to swallow it, but some managed to escape and trickle down his chin.

Derek pulled out and collapsed next to Stiles, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "Thanks for drowning me." Stiles said.

"Stiles."

"What?"

"Don't ruin the moment."

Stiles opened his mouth to speak again, but refrained. The taste of Derek was still on his tongue and he was content to just enjoy that. He blinked, and Derek seemed to be getting hazy with fatigue.

"Hey, Derek. Is cuddling totally out of the Alpha rulebook?"

Derek glanced over and chuckled ever so slightly. "Get over here, Stilinski."

He smiled stupidly as he crawled into Derek's arms. And there it was. The dream had come true. Stiles Stilinski. The friend. The outcast. The loser. Stiles Stilinski was now the lover. The Alpha's lover. He'd woo'd his Sourwolf and nothing could've made him happier.

**Author's Note:**

> Based upon this http://archiveofourown.org/series/22822!


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